O Children
by lost in my design
Summary: He extends his hand, and it is like an invitation to another world. An extension of the dance scene, because it's what all the cool kids are doing. More HHr than anything else.


He extends his hand, and it is like an invitation to another world.

She isn't sure what this other world is, exactly; it is more like a state of mind. He grips her hands and sways back and forth, and she sees a vision of Ron walking away, and she realizes that it is just them, alone. Ron is not coming back. And he sways more, and she sees him in this other perspective, and she understands that she has a choice, here, and she chooses.

They dance, and they sway, and he smiles, and she laughs, and then they are close. Closer than she ever remembers being to him, close enough to feel his heart beating and close enough that it makes her heart beat faster in response. The other world surrounds them, and she knows she can say yes. She looks into his eyes—

No.

The moment she chooses this, the smile falls from her face and the light leaves her eyes. She cannot, she will not—but she wants that world so badly that she can nearly taste it. She turns around and he is distant again, the accursed locket hung from his neck and a darkness lurking behind his eyes. The world in which they are together is gone, its only reminder the static humming of the radio.

_Hey, little train! Wait for me!  
I once was blind but now I see_

She's certain now that they can never go back.

It is Christmas morning and Harry is miserable, as he has every right to be. She's broken his wand and his spirit, although she had some help with the latter. The entire time they have been on this forsaken journey, he has never looked so empty. She wants to hold him, to touch his cheek and whisper something comforting in his ear, to take his hand and assure him that all is not lost, to tell him how much she cares and touch her forehead against his. She doesn't, though, because it will only make this trip more of a hell. Instead she tells him she wishes they could stay here and grow old together.

He does not answer her, and her words echo in her own mind, a blessing and a curse.

When she lays down to sleep, she turns the radio on, and somehow that song is playing, _their song_ is playing, and she loses herself in the voice and the images and the memories.

_Have you left a seat for me?  
Is that such a stretch of the imagination?_

And three days after he defeats Voldemort, she hears it again.

She has finally escaped the castle, the overwhelming joy that has accompanied the overwhelming sorrow. She cannot be there, stuck between the two extremes, any longer, and she leaves without telling a soul.

She returns to the house of her parents, the house of her childhood. She wanders, lost in her own home, until she finds a radio. And she knows, she _knows_, that it will play that song, and she knows that it will make her whole and break her apart, and so she turns it on.

It is an odd form of comfort, she decides, but comfort nonetheless.

She realizes, suddenly, that this song, this melody, will haunt her like a ghost. The ghost of what could have been, the ghost of what may yet be, the ghost of what lies under the surface. She wishes she could banish it, but she can't. She has the ability, yes, and her mind begs her to use it. Her heart, though, remains stubbornly attached to the past. She just…can't.

So she stands and dances alone, his imaginary arms around her, and she wonders if that makes her weak.

_O children,  
Lift up your voice, lift up your voice_

In the end, she marries Ron, because she knows she loves him.

There was never any ambiguity with Ron, she tells herself. He has always loved her, and in a way, she has always loved him. It was definite, it was secure, and she enjoyed dancing with him on their wedding day.

She just kept wondering where Harry was, all the while.

Her rational mind knows he has moved on; a few months before, he had married Ginny, and they were happy and she could see it and she felt…jealous. She hates that.

Ron is wonderful; he is there for her, he makes her feel special, he sings her to sleep at night even though he has a horrible voice. He is amazing, and she knows she is incredibly lucky to have him. And she does love him, she does.

She buys a recording of their song, and once in a while, when she is home alone, she listens to it and dances and sways and imagines another world.

_O children,  
Rejoice, rejoice_

She always wonders what might have happened.

Years have passed and she wonders if he even remembers that night and the way he made her smile and the way he changed her life. They have children now, the both of them. She has Rose and Hugo, who was born but a week ago. He has James and Albus and Lily on the way.

Her heart breaks when she looks at her son, and she does not understand.

She does understand, actually; it is post-partum depression, and she knows because her mother and aunts all went through the same thing. She understands, but it does not lessen her pain.

She wants passion, but she doesn't think she'll ever feel again.

In these moments, she wants more than anything to go to Harry and try to live in that world, to return to the fantasy of their youth, to bring the impossible to life. But that's it, right there—the impossible. She can't.

So she holds Hugo in her arms and stifles her tears and summons her Gryffindor bravery and tries to love him.

_We're happy, Ma, we're having fun  
It's beyond my wildest expectation_

The pain lessens, then dulls. She moves on. She loves Ron, and she loves her family and her life, and she almost, almost forgets.

And then, some years in the future, she watches Rose, James, and Albus get on the train that will take them to Hogwarts. She looks at Harry, and she knows he is remembering his own train ride and the friendship and the memories.

She pulls him aside after the train leaves, leaving Ginny and Ron to chat and watch Lily and Hugo. She wishes she could express everything she is feeling, but she can't.

He looks at her and he knows, and he just sings. He sings their song, one last time. And his voice is a haunting reminder of everything they've been through and she knows he's been listening to it, too. He puts a hand to her cheek, and he kisses her forehead, and then he walks away, and she thinks, finally, she may get some closure.

It is the last time she ever hears their song._  
_


End file.
